Slaves of the Darkness
by Nanafafana
Summary: An escort mission gone wrong finds a warrior in a situation that ends her life. Who knew a ghoul could screw your life up that badly, eh? Really though, could having your sole purpose in life be to serve a man that everyone deems a monster against your will be that bad? Maybe, I just don't know. Really dark humor, will most likely be very gorey.
1. Chapter 1

**Just a few warnings before anyone decides to read this story just in case ya'll are weird and decide not to read the full description. This story will most likely be very gory, I plan for it to be so it most likely will be. It will also contain a lot of macabre humor. This story is mostly centered around my DK Nylilaeth and a lot of the things I say will most likely not be completely true, this does not mean that I will be creating gaps in lore, there may be a few but that is because of my ignorance on certain subjects and will never be intentional, should you ever find one point it out to me if you would like and I'll make sure to fix it.**

**I do not own World of Warcraft I only own a few select characters. I will only do this for this chapter and if I get sued, hey it was stated before ya read it.  
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><p>The warrior walked along slowly, looking around cautiously for any sign of danger. Behind her her sister tiredly kept in step, whining and complaining quietly, just enough for Nylilaeth to hear. She didn't particularly care for escort duty assigned by her mother, it offered no reward and got her to places she's already been, but of course after much insistence and the constant 'I-gave-birth-to-you' getting thrown into her face her complaints gradually receded into her own mental complaining. She offered no ill-will towards her siblings, aside from some of the mental torture from their adolescence she maintained very good relationships with both, while some mental nit-picking happened every once in a while, those days were far and few in between.<p>

Her ears detected movement to her left, her hand flew to the large sword and axe strapped to her back. Her sister stopped dead, shuffling to stand behind Nylilaeth as her lavender face went unusually pale. An infected squirrel came hobbling out of a bush slowly, its fur a sickly green with splotches of fur missing. Nylilaeth sneered, sheathing her weapons and pressing forward with an annoyed huff. Her sister scrambled to keep up with her trembling legs, attempting to get over the quick wave of fear that washed over her. The Eastern Plaguelands was no ones favorite place, between the undead running rampant and the horrible stench, the plague-stricken land was easily the most hated between the sisters.

"You need to slow down, I'm having a hard time keeping up!" Her sister quietly called out, one must never be too loud here in fear of something unpleasant desiring a snack.

"You worry too much, Elfy."

Nylilaeth felt the glare without turning and briefly wondered if she'd have to yank an arrow out of her back.

"Slow down, _Lil_."

Nylilaeth spun on her heel and glared up at her little sister, "Just because I'm not over seven feet tall like all of you giants doesn't make me small! I'm one inch short of being seven feet tall and you know it!" Her voice escalated to a near shout, her sisters hands came out to quiet her down but every shush just fueled the fire. An odd gurgling noise emanating from nearby silenced her very quickly.

Eflea looked towards the direction of the noise with a look of horror on her face. Nylilaeth quickly drew her weapons as a single ghoul with no lower half pulled itself towards them.

Nylilaeth laughed heartily, the sound resounding more than she was aware of. She gestured to the pathetic creature with her axe. "Look at it, that little thing kicking up a big fuss. Man, I can't wait to tell an'da how his fierce huntress almost peed in her little leather pants over The Little Ghoul That Couldn't!"

Eflea scowled and shot the poor thing in the head, seeing as how her sister was too busy trying to suffocate herself with laughter. She retrieved her arrow quickly, wincing as it slid out with no issue.

Eflea turned to her sister, complaints on the tip of her tongue before she saw that her sisters laughter had attracted quite the crowd.

"Il... Ilisar!" Eflea choked out, catching the attention of Nylilaeth a split second too late.

The dead pounced on her, pinning her to the ground with unnatural strength. She rolled onto her back as fast as she could and held back the snapping jaws to the best of her ability. She berated herself for having decided laughing in a place like this was a good idea. She kicked her foot out and tripped a ghoul that was shambling its way towards Eflea, all the while maintaining an excellent grip on the ghouls head above her.

She gritted her teeth as a geist started scraping its claws against her leg armor. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her sister, standing against a tree seemingly frozen with fear. Her heart pounded as rage and adrenaline fueled her.

"Run now, idiot! I'll-" Her sentence was cut off as the ghoul snapped its jaws inches away from her nose, she put more force into holding its head back, "Just follow the path, I'll catch up later!"

Eflea startled, and nodded before running down the path towards the camp they were headed to. She knew her sister would manage to get out of it, she's been in much tougher spots. Hell, she saw her wrestle a gorilla in Strangelthorn once! A few ghouls should be a walk in the park for her.

The ghoul atop her quickly switched its attention to the fleeing huntress, it slipped out of Nylilaeth's grip and swiftly shambled after the bright green braid.

Nylilaeth's hand shot out and grabbed the ghouls ankle, causing the ghould to fall on its unfortunate face, "Nuh-uh, I may not have a shield but that doesn't mean I can't take some damn hits."

Her hand reached out to grab the axe that had fallen not to far from her and cut the ghouls head off in one swift motion before shaking the geist off her leg. Her foot came down onto the geist's head with a powerful stomp, effectively squishing it.

Nylilaeth sighed through her nose, her eyes closing as exhaustion swept over her. Walking for two days in heavy plate with two giant weapons strapped to her back was never her idea of fun. She surveyed the area, she saw no sign of the ghoul she had tripped earlier so she assumed he had fled back to wherever he came. She deemed the area safe with a nod of her head.

Her legs collapsed under her, her upper body coming to rest on her axe. She promised herself she'd retrieve her sword in a moment, but honestly she could stand to rest for a moment. She gently took her pauldrons off, inspecting the nasty bruises she got from the little scuffle. The ugly purple marks marred her pretty pink skin and cause her to huff. She pulled her bag off from belt and started digging through, looking for the medical supplies she knew she packed – someplace, I mean really how many bags did she bring? - an oddly... furry feeling something brushed across her exposed right shoulder, it didn't fully register what this meant until a burning feeling overcame her shoulder and most of her neck.

Nylilaeth now knows what it feels like to have no throat.

–

The necromancers looked at the scene in front of them with slight wonder in their eyes, a ghoul missing one foot was presenting a dead night elf of all things to their king!

The ghoul simply radiated pride, its unhinged jaw loudly stated barely intelligible words. "Momma! Gift!" It said to the large man adorned in an impressive suit of armor.

The man looked to the elf with a large chunk of flesh missing then back to the ghoul. A booming voice surrounded the area, the icy winds of the north seemingly laced with every word.

"And how exactly did you come to acquire this... Gift?" He said eloquently, pronouncing every word clearly.

"Gift laugh, almost two gifts! Bonebreak lose foot, and Gob and Ribmunch not live, but ok because Bonebreak is best!" Bonebreak wobbled on its lone foot, shouting the sentence to his 'momma' as best he could.

"I thank you for this gift, leave now." The ghoul faithfully bounced away, back to the pit where he would hopefully get a new foot.

The man gazed down at the dead elf at his feet, bleeding all over the floor. "You will make an excellent addition..." He turned and left to go elsewhere, sure that his minions would know what he wished.

The necromancers that had no previous engagements scrambled to fulfill the silent order.


	2. Chapter 2

The woman watched as the tall elf paced back and forth along the length of the camp, she didn't even laugh when she tripped over one of the pikes that held the tents in place, having long since been used to it as it had been happening for the past week or so. The adventurer had been pacing the entirety of the small camp for probably close to a week, the pacing didn't start until a day after she got to the refuge and it hasn't stopped yet. The elf had a surprising amount of energy.

The human woman sighed and stood from her perch on the log that was being used as a makeshift chair. She'd been contemplating whether or not to talk to the obviously worried elf since she got there, but the elf had made no contact with anyone and had blatantly refused any form of contact from anyone. But like hell she was going to watch this pathetic display go on any longer, the poor girl looked exhausted, not to mention she's consumed very little since she's arrived.

Eflea continued following the rut she created, the set path giving her a miniscule sense of satisfaction and a small relief from the worrisome thoughts that keep pouring into her head by the dozen. Questions echoed around in her head, things like "Is she okay?" "Where is she?" "Did she leave without me? She always did hate taking people places..." The oncoming presence of the human mage was known yet not acknowledged in the least, Eflea too busy trying to come up with rational thoughts on the whereabouts of her sister.

"Hey." The human said softly. Her attempts to drive the elf out of her reverie were fruitless however which only caused her features to harden. "Hey." She tried again with a sharper edge to her voice.

Eflea stopped and turned to look at her, an expression of hopelessness marring her beautiful face. The moment their eyes locked the human was almost positive the elf was gonna break down into tears right then and there.

"She's not here, why is she not here? You're a mage, you're smart. Do you know what happened to her? Where'd she go?!" Eflea broke into hysterics, millions of questions that the human could never hope to answer flew out of her lips a million miles a second.

"Woah, woah. Keep your voice down." She put a hand on the elves shoulder, "Start from the beginning, tell me what happened."

Eflea sat on the ground, her arms flopped uselessly on her lap as her head looked downward. The human followed her lead in a more dignified way and listened attentively as the heartbroken huntress recounted her tale.

–

Nylilaeth stared up at the masked faces above her with an air of calmness that somehow surprised her. The faces stared at her with curiosity shining in their exposed eyes, the rest of their faces being covered in a cloth mask and hood. They retreated as soon as they saw her eyes open and whispered to each other animatedly all the while staring straight at her.

Nylilaeth sat up, ignoring the intense ache that sprouted from -well, everywhere! She shook her head from side to side rapidly, trying to quell the intense ache that started up.

She felt... weird. She stood, following the command issued by no one and walked around the pit that housed quite a few shackled up residents. Her instincts told her to run though her body kept moving towards the large man standing on the balcony overlooking what appeared to be a village.

The man turned to her, chilling blue eyes only shown by the glow emanating from the small openings in his helmet. Nylilaeth felt a spike of fear and excitement all at once.

_Run._

**Forward, keep moving.**

_Stop walking, turn around._

**Obey me.**

_You're sealing your fate!_

**Your fate has already been sealed.**

All at once it seemed an anvil dropped onto her as she stood and looked up at the man, it forced her to her knees and silenced her instincts altogether. Her mind turned blank and she lost every thought she's had up until this moment.

Her head tilted as she stared up at the man, a blue haze taking over her vision.

"Mommy?"

"I have a few... errands I need you to run for me." He spoke down to her, his voice sending beautiful pricks of ice all over her body.

Her expression turned giddy, "Whatever you wish, momma!"

–

"Since you're so fantastically..." The necromancer glanced at Nylilaeth, who was standing there with a dumb grin on her face, "... Special, you've been assigned a partner to keep track – I mean help you."

Nylilaeth giggled, "I'm special..." She muttered under her breath.

The necromancer brought a man with barely any skin on him over to her, "This is Tom, this is his second time dying, don't kill him again."

"Hi, Tom!"

"Hello, elf."

"Now leave." The necromancer shoved them towards the gryphons that would fly them to the ground and then left them to their devices.

Nylilaeth turned to her new companion as she jogged towards the dead beasts, "So, Tom, dead twice, eh?" She elbowed his side, "How'd you die the other times?"

"First time I died I got stabbed," He covered his heart with his right hand, "right here. Second time, I read too much and-"

"You can die from reading?!"

"Depends on the circumstances, and what you read, and of course what that information is worth to other people, but yes, I suppose you can. And you died how?"

Nylilaeth shrugged and stopped in front of one of the dead flying creatures, "I think I got bit or something, my shoulder is all stitched up," She leaned towards him and whispered conspiratorially, "and I don't think it's my flesh."

Tom sighed, "That happens." He lifted his left foot revealing a poorly stitched-up foot. He wiggled his toes. "Not my toes, ripped 'em off one of the poor soldiers feet down there." He sighed wistfully, "That was a good day."

Nylilaeth's eyes sparkled, the prospect of ripping limbs and phalanges off excited her and she was suddenly a lot more eager to carry out her tasks.

The skeletal gryphon was uncomfortable underneath her, the bony animal providing no comfort at all. Not to mention the fact you could fall off so easily! Honestly, if one didn't have good balance they'd find that their skulls do in fact make a really cool noise when they hit the ground. Well – they'd know for maybe a split second before they die, but you know how it is.

The ride was thankfully short. Nylilaeth quickly pulled the uncomfortable plate skirt – kilt, Tom kept calling it, it's a kilt he doesn't wear skirts, he's says, fuck you, Tom it's a skirt – from it's place nestled between her ass cheeks.

Tom was standing and waiting for her. He made a grating noise when she got close and motioned towards her head, he reached behind him and pulled an invisible thing over his head. The motion was repeated and didn't stop and didn't appear to be stopping til Nylilaeth figured it out.

Nylilaeth squinted her eyes at him. Charades? Cool, okay, she can do this game. She thinks she knows she's good at it. She goes through all the possibilities of what he could be gesturing until she comes up with _the one_, the answer she knows is right.

"Wooly mammoth! That's what it is!" She clapped her hands together once in triumph and celebrated her victory with a pelvic thrust motion.

Tom sighed, his hooded face expressing so much disappointment. "Please, just pull your hood up."

"Okay." She did as told and yanked her hood up, pieces of her bright pink hair flopped around her head and poked out of the hood opening messily.

Lord help me, Tom thought as they both pressed forward.

–

"It's just up here." Eflea whispered to the mage next to her who she learned was actually called Rosalya not too long ago.

They came to the clearing that Eflea had last seen her sister in. Eflea wasn't surprised in the least when her eyes landed on the bodies of two disfigured scourge, what befuddled her was the fact that some of her sister's most prized possessions were lying there unattended. A new worry blossomed in her stomach and it pushed bile up her throat which she quickly swallowed back down with a grimace.

Rosalya inspected the weapons and shoulder armor daintily, she hesitated to ask.

"These your sister's?"

"Yea..."

"Any chance she's one of those people that suddenly dislikes her armor?"

"No... She's had that armor for 57 years, the weapons she made herself. But I mean, she would leave them here right? There's gotta be a reason! She's probably messing with me, she's pretended to be dead before!"

Rosalya inspected the patches of dry blood and small chunks of purple flesh surrounding the area. The blood trail went towards Acherus. Rosalya had a distant thought wondering if Eflea liked her sister mix and matched or whole but pushed that thought away.

"I wouldn't say so."

Eflea remained quiet, her face impassive.

"Blood trail heads towards the no-no area, there was a chunk of flesh over here. Doesn't look like she waddled over there willingly."

Rosalya watched apathetically as Eflea collected her sister's armor and weapons, she almost felt something akin to sympathy when the elf held the items in a way that signified that she wouldn't be letting them leave her sight anytime soon.

"Let's go and get your stuff, I'm making you a portal back to Darnassus."

Eflea followed wordlessly the entire way.

–

Nylilaeth plucked arrow after arrow off the ground as Tom killed all the pretty puppies frolicking in the pretty little field they were in. For some reason those skeletal archers really liked shooting this field, it was like an arrow mine! She hit the arrow jackpot, she is the collector. That's her new name, she decided, Nylilaeth the Collector, Collector Extraordinaire, You Need It She Collects It, With the Help of Tom but Don't Tell Him 'Cause He'll Get a Big Head. That's it, her full name.

"Stop picking daisies, lil' girl!" Tom yelled at her.

For some reason being called lil really pissed her off. She shrugged away the feeling, it was a part of her name, she thought.

"I got it!"

"Good, let's leave. These dogs stole my arm." He wiggled his left arm – well, stub.

"We can rip one off the bodies on our way back."

"That's the plan."

–

"Here's the plan, stay away from Stable Master Kitrik, take a horse, leave. Got it?" Tom recounted the plan one more time as they lay on their stomachs on the hill overlooking the stables.

Nylilaeth nods, "Got it, plan is a go." She rolled down the hill on her side, much like a child would do at a park.

"I didn't say go..." Tom quickly followed, but instead of rolling down like a toddler he chose to just jump down. Screw breaking bones, if he died he'd be revived again.

Tom hurried towards the closest horse and quickly mounted. The horse startled as he climbed aboard, attracting the attention of nearby guards who hopped into action with no thought.

"Go, go, go!" Nylilaeth shouted behind him.

Tom didn't have to be told twice, he bolted out of there quicker than a really fast dog probably. He glanced behind him to see Nylilaeth on the smallest fucking pony he's ever seen being chased by the one guy he told her to avoid.

"Why'd you get the one that attracted the attention of the Stable Master?! You can barely fit on it!"

"You don't own me!" Her pony quickened, it's bite-sized legs getting sent into over-drive as it sped off in front of him.

He watched in anger and awe as it's little legs moved. He felt a spike of jealousy. Fuck little horses, he thought.


	3. Chapter 3

Eflea watched in an almost detached manner as her mother collapsed into the chair behind her, her hand over her heart as she takes in the news. Her mother's shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world just came crashing down onto them 100 mph.

Eflea wanted to grieve for her sister, wanted so hard to feel the sadness that was no doubt sweeping through her mother, but for the life of her she couldn't. She felt a strange nothingness as if her emotions were sucked away altogether. She wanted to cry and scream and sob like her mother was doing now.

I'm sorry, Eflea thought, I'm sorry your good child died. Her eyes fell to the floor, her mind filled with self deprecating thoughts. I should've stayed, I'm so useless.

"Eflea..." Her mother sobbed out, "I know that look," she sniffed loudly, "Do-don't blame yourself, not your fault." She repeated the last part deliriously a couple of times before breaking back into tears.

Eflea hugged her mother and was held in turn.

And that's how Fandris found them. His feet stopped at the doorway, taking in the scene in front of him with great concern. He rushed to their side and joined the hug with no hesitation, his hands rubbing both of the women's backs in soothing circles. He could wait to hear what happened. In the back of his mind he dully noted that Nylilaeth wasn't here. Probably running errands, he thought before dismissing it to deal with the weeping women.

When the sobs lulled into quiet crying Fandris deemed it a good enough time to ask what happened. The only response he got was a violent sob from Fylaina, Eflea's mother. Elea turned her head away from him.

"Eflea, what happened?"

Eflea said nothing and refused to look him head on. Shame welled in the pit of her stomach.

"Eflea." He stated, his voice carrying an oddly gentle forcefulness.

Eflea flinched and looked at him. Her eyes shined with tears.

"What happened?"

"Nylilaeth isn't coming back... She's not gonna... I'm sorry." Eflea covered her eyes, the tears finally flowing freely down her face. "I'm sorry, you... you..."

Fandris looked shocked before sadness quickly overcame his features. "Oh..." He ran his hand down his face, intent on not crying in front of the people that served as his family for so many years. Now wasn't the time for crying, they needed someone to be strong right now and by Elune that would be him even if it killed him with grief.

He looked at both the women closely, noting how both looked exhausted. The light of the sun crept in through the window.

"Does your father know?"

Eflea shook her head no.

"I'll tell him, you two need to go to bed."

"But you! You..."

"I'm fine, I'll be fine. You look like you haven't slept in ages, and Fylaina needs her sleep right now."

Eflea nodded and slowly took her mother and herself to bed.

Fandris sat back for a moment, allowing himself a second of grief before delivering the news to his mentor. It seems his little surfas* won't be returning to him in this life...

"Elune-adore, Nylilaeth*," he muttered, "Kene'thil surfas.*" With that he got to his feet, ready to deliver the crushing news to his mentor. To Nylilaeth's father.

–

"Who's that?" Nylilaeth asked, pointing towards the figure standing tall on a mountain overlooking the scourge encampment.

Tom looked to where she was pointing. "Ah, him. Just a weirdo that's been watching us for a while. Not very stealthy isn't he? He hasn't shown any signs of being a threat thus far and The Big Bad Boss said to just leave him be so he's just there now. Kinda creepy isn't he?"

"Yeah, if you're getting called creepy by a guy that's died twice that's saying something!"

Tom glared at her, "Do you want to die twice?"

"No."

"Then shut your mouth."

Nylilaeth frowned and crossed her arms. She blew a raspberry at the back of Tom's head.

The walk to the prison house was quiet, neither wished to bring their horse as it was pointless to for such a short walk. Tom walked ahead of Nylilaeth, his short bony legs moving fast so that they could pass up Nylilaeth's large strides.

Tom likes being in the front, it's a simple fact.

Knight Commander Plaguefist was waiting for them there. As soon as he saw them he supplied an almost mocking salute.

"Tom, nice to see you again. See you got stuck with one of the brainless ones."

"Oh, she's got a brain, it's just beaten like an old horse."

"That's what you get after being dragged over mountains by a ghoul." He made a shooing gesture at Tom and turned to Nylilaeth, "You, I've got a task for you. Walk with me."

Nylilaeth kept pace with him as he walked towards the prison house. She looked around at the dark environment around her. She saw an elevated platform with trap doors on the floor and nooses hanging from a bar on the top and she suddenly hoped she'd be able to use one of those one day. Her attention snapped to the Commander as he started talking.

"We got here, tore the place apart, and headed toward the prison house. We weren't expecting what we found in there, Nylilaeth. Seems the Crusade's been real busy. That whole thing is full of Argent Dawn prisoners. Most of them were already dead by the time we arrived, but a few were still breathing.

"I was about to go in there and execute the rest of them, but I think you should have the honors. In particular, there's a real feisty night elf in there that I think you'll take great pleasure in executing." He spoke rather dully, a dry kind of humorous tone in his voice.

They stopped at the front of the prison house, near the door but not quite. Plaguefist hit Nylilaeth on the back hard, urging her forward.

She pulled her hood down as she walked into the building. Her pink hair fell to her shoulders in a mess of knots and dirt, and in some places it even stood up. The walls of the prison house were lined with uncomfortable looking cots with dirty sheets that looked itchy even from a distance. A prisoner resided in almost each bed, some favoring the floor instead. The stench of feces and death made her smile widen, it reminded her of Ebon Hold, that was the first thing that entered her nose when she woke up and now it seemed to be her favorite scent. Her eyes swept over each occupant before landing on a night elf female, the only night elf in the building to be exact. It seemed they only imprisoned one of each race.

The night elf didn't look up when she heard the death knight enter nor did she twitch when dark plate boots entered her vision. She leaned onto the bed and stared at the floor, glaring at the death knight's dirty boots.

"Come to finish me off?" She heard the death knight unsheathe the sword on her back and barely restrained herself from growling. Her head whipped up as she stared her future murderer in their cold, lifeless eyes, "Well I'd just like to-" Her speech died off as she stared up at her former friend's pale face.

"Nylilaeth? Is that you?"

Nylilaeth stared down at the elf with a smile on her face. She cocked her head as the elf said her name. How'd she know her name? Tom probably told her, she thought, Tom does weird things he did it, I know it.

"Elune, what have they done to you? You probably don't even know my face... We used to cause so much trouble in Nighthaven, you loved terrorizing the druids." Her words were quick and quiet, urging Nylilaeth to remember something. "You were the town terror, I looked up to you so... I heard you became a hero, saved countless people." Her lips pursed as she watched Nylilaeth grow more and more confused with each sentence. "You can't let the Lich King do this to you, he's not your master. Fight him, don't let him use you to accomplish his goals, he is wicked and evil. Fight! Fight for your family! Fight for poor Fandris! He wouldn't wish this fate upon you, no one would! Not even you!"

"What's taking so long? I told you to kill her, short and sweet, not dragged out and sour!" Knight Commander Plaguefist yelled from outside.

"There's no hope for me. Remember your family, remember you! Don't forget our home, our people! Now kill me, kill me now!"

Nylilaeth shrugged and put her foot on the elf's chest, pushing her back to the floor. She put her full weight on that foot and smiled when she heard the faint cracking of ribs. Her sword came to stab into the wooden floor next to the elf's neck, she applied more pressure to her chest when she felt the elf struggling. All at once she pulled her sword to the side like a lever. She watched with fascination as blood ran through the cracks of the wooden floor beneath them, listened excitedly at the gagging and horrified gasps from the other occupants. She sheathed her sword once again and went to take the elf's head as a prize of sorts. She grasped the elf's white hair and pulled it upwards, the neck clung to it's other half stubbornly. It held together only by a small piece of flesh that was slowly tearing.

The body finally fell to the floor with a thud. Nylilaeth smiled and grasped the end of the messy, dirty white braid and swung the head around much like a guard would do to keys. Her boots thumped loudly against the creaky floorboards. An inconsistent trail of blood followed her.

Plaguefist frowned at her from behind his mask. "It doesn't take that much time to cut off a head, now does it?"

"She was telling me stories!" Nylilaeth pouted. "I wonder what I'll do with her head... I could tie her braid together and make her a necklace! That'd be really big though..."

Tom piped up, "Shave her head and skin her, make a meal out of it."

Nylilaeth got an excited gleam in her eye, "Tom! I got dinner!"

"Good job."

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><p><strong>I forgot to put the translations in last time for the darnassian words I used. :P<strong>

**Surfal* - Loved / Beloved one**

**Elune-adore* - Elune be with you**

**Kene'thil surfas* - I love you**


End file.
